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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23710498">In My Wake</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloudDreamer/pseuds/CloudDreamer'>CloudDreamer</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Demon Eyes [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dr Carmilla (Musician), The Mechanisms (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Prohibition Era, Character Study, F/F, Grief/Mourning, Gun Violence, Suicidal Intent, Vampires, but it's subtle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 20:48:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>735</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23710498</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloudDreamer/pseuds/CloudDreamer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>What's she supposed to do when the fire's died out?</p><p>Title from “Arsonist’s Lullaby” by Hozier.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dr Carmilla/Loreli</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Demon Eyes [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1698556</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Stowaways' Shenanigans</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>In My Wake</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She sits in the back of the speakeasy, staring into her cup. She holds it as gently as possible as she puts it to her lips, but she still cracks the metal. She swears under her breath and downs the contents. It doesn’t burn half as bad as the odd dozen bullets stuck in her back, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t made her take a second to catch her breath. That pain has dulled to a repetitive throb, and this‘s new.</p><p>Someone’s got a radio on, and she hears her laugh from hours ago echo through the rusty wires. She drops the cup to keep from breaking it further, waves for another. The recording doesn’t sell how loud the guns were. She throws back the fresh cup too, hating the taste of whiskey but desperate for the new sort of pain. The bullets inside her are a bitch, but she doesn’t fancy scattering organs across a place like this. She likes it here. They don’t ask too many question, don’t try cutting her off too early in the night. They wouldn’t care if a normal customer got alcohol poisoning, so she can drink herself dead over and over again, and they don’t check faces. </p><p>Won’t see she hasn’t gotten older, hasn’t accumulated any scars from the handful of fights she’s been in found here, is a match for the wanted posters they’ve got scattered round town. She’s sung to pay her way a couple of times, but it’s not like they’ll compare the Monster of Unseelie to this slip of a girl. That Monster’s got the sharpest teeth and the biggest appetite, and all that clearly malnourished singer ever drinks is her liquor. She doesn’t laugh, barely smiles, and when she does, it’s sharp, without any amusement. Her bones nearly protrude from her skin, she’s small for her age, but what’s her age again? She’s long since lost track.</p><p>They’re shady motherfuckers, that’s for sure, but they’re Carmilla’s shady motherfuckers so she’s gotta protect them. How long’s it been since she showed up? Decade? </p><p>She probably helped business quite a bit with the little trick she pulled. A couple of fools who she’d last seen swearing they were quitting this time, yeah, for real, they were getting their life in order, were sobbing into their drinks in the corner. Some newcomers too, a little nervous at first, but they’re pulled into the thrum. Conversation goes quickly, but she catches almost all of it. Practiced ear. Her title passes in whispered breaths between people leaning in, like they’re scared mentioning her too loud will summon her, but bad luck, buddy, she’s already here.</p><p>She wants to flop her head onto the table, but she doesn’t want to break it. She is tired to all hell and back of breaking random shit. It’s exhausting, keeping control of her body, and all the little ways she used to get her tension out leave corpses now. She could kick the wall and collapse the entire building if she wasn’t fucking careful. She didn’t even need the bombs, though they’d made shit much more efficient, she could’ve torn through the world with her bare hands. Then maybe her rage woulda faded prematurely, left her all empty inside in the middle of the battlefield instead of a sobbing wreck in the shell of a building. </p><p>There used to be someone for her, on nights like these. The necklace weighs heavily against her chest, like everything Loreli was to her contained in a simple object. She wants to run her fingers over the chain, let the metal cool her boiling skin, but she knows better not to touch anything important. She’s already ruined so many precious memories with a careless swipe of her wrist. Besides, it’s not a replacement for her hand in Carmilla’s.</p><p>Everyone here’s lost someone special. Her particular story’s not even a unique one, though maybe the bit about being torn back onto this mortal coil by the same asshole that took her g-damn eye could raise a few eyebrows. Everyone knows what happens to the angry ones, the ones who burn too bright, and she knew it as well as the rest of them. She hadn’t cared. She’d make the whole world bleed for her pain, she’d sworn, and then she did and she‘s still here for the aftermath.</p><p>She survives, and this is the world bleeding.</p>
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